


Variations on a Theme

by TheMaraD



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Gen, One Shot Collection, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3443438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMaraD/pseuds/TheMaraD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It had taken a decade of service for Harry Hart to develop enough caution, though one might call it paranoia, to begin forming his own alliances within the Kingsman service." A collection of one-shots, featuring Harry Hart & the woman he recruited to encrypt his feeds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1994

1994

It had taken a decade of service for Harry Hart to develop enough caution, though one might call it paranoia, to begin forming his own alliances within the Kingsman service. At first he had simply persuaded one of the lovelier female doctors to ensure his care would always be top notch. Somehow that had expanded into a trio of doctors that would always oversee his admission to their medical facilities. From there he had gone on to befriend one of the gentlemen in their gadgetry division to see to it that everything from his guns to his cars to his signet ring were always in excellent working order.

And now that everything was beginning to be recorded and stored digitally, he realized he would need someone in their computer sciences division to see that his files were always uncrackable. Of course, he could not ask Merlin as any untoward behaviour would have to be immediately reported. That meant finding someone trustworthy among those who worked under Merlin. It was no easy search, as that person would also have to be competent enough to keep Merlin from finding them out.

After weeks of searching covertly through employee files, he had narrowed it down to three candidates and had devised ways of testing loyalty, amongst other desired qualities. Nothing had been too overt, mind, lest he risk getting caught. Everything he put them through was relatively minor, but tended to show their character. For example, he would steal or misplace little things in their lab to test their reactions.

One candidate showed great determination to catch the culprit in the act by setting up cameras and traps Of course, given that Harry was an active field agent, the cameras failed and the traps, though they became more elaborate, also were doomed to failure. Harry crossed her off the list quickly.

The second candidate quickly fell into a pattern of blaming whomever was the most convenient target. He was also removed from the list.

The third candidate, rather than sinking to the depths of gossip or increasing paranoia, simply watched. When blame was laid on colleagues that could not possibly be the culprit, they were defended. Alice Archer demonstrated clear thinking and a willingness to stand up for her colleagues. And when the blame was inevitably placed on her she took it in stride, asking for proof and not once losing her temper.

And that was how he found himself waiting near her flat in the wee hours of the morning like a crazed stalker. He watched her leave the tube station and when he was certain that neither of them was being followed or observed, he approached her and made his pitch. Although he applied the same charm he used on the doctor that had been his first recruit, she appeared less receptive to it.

That was how he found himself sat at the dining table in her flat, arguing the merits of his proposal.

"You realize I could lose my job?" Her green eyes were the size of saucers, her irritation radiating from every fibre of her being.

"Yes."

"And then what? I don't know how much research you've done on women in computer sciences, but it's not exactly rainbows and unicorns for us outside of Kingsman!"

"I understand it's a big risk for you, but-."

"But what?" she interrupted. "How could there possibly be a 'but'? Is this where you tell me that you're some sort of tragic hero?"

The thought had crossed his mind earlier in the evening, but now? "No, you're too clever for that, Alice."

"Lovely," she sighed as she sat opposite him finally. "We're resorting to flattery now."

Perhaps it was time to try a new tack. "I understand this is all a bit sudden and overwhelming, and I wouldn't blame you for needing time to think it through. I do need your assurances, however, that-."

"That I won't go talking to everyone about your shady spy within a spy within a spy dealings?" she bit out. "You needn't worry."

And with that he knew without a doubt that he had her. "Take all the time you need," he assured her as he stood from the table. As he crossed to the door he could feel her eyes on his back. By the time he had his coat on and turned to bid her farewell, she appeared more relaxed. Now was the time to strike. "You do realize that by concealing my offer, your job is still at risk?"

In rapid succession her demeanour went from relaxed, to alert, to resigned. "You had me from the moment I let you into my flat, didn't you?" The menacing effect of her narrowed eyes was nullified by the trust he saw in them. It baffled him that she could pull such an expression off.

"I'd like to think sooner," he admitted.

With a sigh, she invited him back to the table and they spent the remainder of the night discussing his plans.


	2. 1995

1995

It had been well over a year since Harry Hart had first approached her to encrypt his data, and in that time Alice Archer had not come to like him any more than she had that night. She had received calls at any and all hours, and she knew without a doubt that he would not hesitate to call her now on Christmas. The fact that she had her pager clipped on was a source of contention between her and her family. Even now, as her niece bounced on her lap while they sang loudly and off-key along with Frosty the Snowman on the telly, she would catch her mum glaring at the thing from the corner of her eye.

“Mum, will you stop!”

“That man has worked you to the bone!”

“Yes,” she laughed as her niece ran off down the hall. “And tonight I’m not at work. Tonight I’m not even thinking about work unless he calls. And you’ve scared Sarah off with your moaning.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, she’s gone to the loo,” her mother scoffed.

“The job isn’t that bad. I’m not left wanting for anything.” She pointed down the hall to where her brother and sister-in-law were in the kitchen, “And I’ve certainly never asked you for an advance on the rent.”

“Don’t you start on that again. You know very well they’ve had hard times.”

“Yes, and I haven’t. So, why is it that you’re always on me?”

“Because,” her mother began as she crossed the room, “you have no quality of life! What good is having enough money to enjoy life if you haven’t the time? And that flat of yours, how much do you waste on it every month? You’re never there!”

“Mum, that’s enough,” she sighed. “Not on Christmas.”

“Auntie Alice!” Sarah’s voice squealed as she ran down the hall. “Auntie Alice!”

“Thank whatever God there may or may not be for that child, she has perfect timing,” Alice muttered happily as she ran to meet her niece. “What is it, cheeky bug?” she roared softly as she hoisted the girl onto her shoulders.

“Mummy says Santa doesn’t like trifle,” she giggled.

“Mummy’s wrong. Everyone loves trifle!” They bounded into the kitchen. laughing. “Tessa, what are you teaching this poor child? Santa loves trifle!” Alice slid the girl off her shoulders and deposited her on the countertop, swiping a spoonful from the pot her sister-in-law was stirring. That earned her a swat upside the head from her brother, Peter.

“And everyone’s going to be giving him the same thing, mummy!” Sarah whined. “I want to be different!”

Tessa smirked. “Different, hmm? She’s definitely related to you, Alice.”

“Auntie Alice will help me make a trifle for Santa,” Sarah declared confidently.

Peter laughed. “I guess mum, auntie, gran, and I are stuck eating the rest of this,” he gestured to the food they had made for Santa only that afternoon.

“Don’t be a pessimist, Peter,” Alice chided as she reached for the pudding mix in the cupboard above Sarah’s head. “It’ll be lunch tomorrow.”

“My sister,” he snickered. “Causing menace and mayhem wherever she goes!”

Tossing a wink at her niece, Alice pointed at her and said, “As though you could deny that expression.”

On cue, Sarah pouted sadly at her father. The kid was quick on the uptake, Alice had to give her that.

“Using my own child against me….”

“Who are you kidding, Peter?” Tessa asked. “She had you from the moment you let her run off to get Alice.”

Though she did not let it show, her smile became more difficult to maintain as she was reminded of the conversation with Harry in her flat. “Sooner, I’d think,” she offered, widening her grin forcefully.

As if the very memory of the conversation had summoned him, Alice felt and heard her pager. Stepping back from her niece, she groaned irritably and yanked it from its clip.

“Don’t answer him,” her mum called from the doorway, her brow furrowed.

Alice glanced down at the display, sighing. It was tempting to not answer. After all, it was Christmas eve. What kind of emergency could be happening on Christmas eve? What kind of terrorist threatened the world on Christmas eve?

“One with bloody lousy timing,” she muttered to herself. 

“What was that, dear?”

“Nothing, mum.”

Did she want to stay here with her family? Of course she did. Then again, whatever Harry wanted could directly impact their safety.

Again she sighed. Forcing her gaze away from the pager, she looked at her niece. Would she leave her family on Christmas eve at the drop of a hat to answer Harry Hart’s page?

“Irritating git,” she moaned softly, then stopped herself from cursing him out further when she realized her niece was staring at her. “Sarah, never repeat that.”

Sarah shook her head, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I’ll be back, bug,” she told Sarah, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t eat Santa’s trifle and don’t forget the carrots for the reindeer.”

“You’re not going!” The disbelief in her mum’s voice irritated her a little.

“Of course I’m going, mum! You wouldn’t say that if I had taken that offer at the hospital,” Alice said as she pushed past her mum and into the hall.

“No, I wish you had taken that job. You’d’ve had more normal hours! A life! This bloody tailors shop can’t be that important.”

Alice stopped and turned back to face her mother. “What if Prince Charles had a clothing emergency?”

“Did he?” her mum asked, her eyebrow arched.

“I don’t know, I’m stuck in the hall arguing with you instead of heading to my job.”

Her mother threw her arms up in exasperation and stalked back down the hall. It took every bit of strength in her not to laugh at the thought of her and Harry going head to head. He would win, naturally. By the time he left, her mum would think he had hung the moon. The man was nauseatingly charming.

As she drew on her coat and boots, her mind drifted back to that conversation last year. Though she was loathe to admit it, Harry had been absolutely correct - he had had her long before she even invited him into her flat. With a roll of her eyes, she stalked out into the night and into whatever the ‘URGENT’ message on her pager would bring.


	3. 1996

1996

When he had asked Alice to set up the private and direct emergency line, Harry had not expected it would take so long. Honestly, he had expected she would show up with a mobile phone ready to go. It not occurred to him that she would she would have to go through the motions of cancelling the disposable telephone line with the provider, then set it up on one of the secured Kingsman networks.

He hoped like hell neither Arthur nor Merlin would notice.

Not that Alice had proven herself in any way incompetent. Quite the opposite, really. Every task he had set out for her, she completed. And, most importantly, she managed it all without fawning over him. He did not have to maintain the flirty air he did with Elizabeth, the doctor. Nor did he have to maintain a politely benevolent demeanour as he did with his greatest fan, Martin. Comparatively she was a bloody sea of tranquility. Perhaps that was why she was the only one of the lot he had invited into his home.

A new thought struck him and he folded his newspaper in half to observe her as he spoke. “You call me ‘Harry’.” He had not realized it until that moment, but she had not once during their acquaintance called him by his codename.

She started up from her work and looked at him, puzzled. “Is there another name you’d prefer?”

“No, it’s just that...well, you’ve never once called me ‘Galahad.’”

Her confusion melted away with a roll of her eyes. “I’ve never had occasion to do. Our relationship is a bit clandestine for us to speak at work, and outside of work what reason have we to use codenames?"

Flipping the paper back up, he resumed reading. He had the sneaking suspicion that even if they did speak at either the tailors or headquarters, she would still be addressing him as 'Harry'.

"Is it some sort of bizarre fetish?"

"I beg your pardon?". The newspaper fell back in half of its own volition.

"The codename," she explained, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Would you rather I called you 'Galahad'?"

“Good Lord,” he muttered, rolling his eyes at the thought. What had he done? “It was a simple observation, Alice, and a rather reasonable one at that, given our line of work. No need to-.”

Admittedly he may have started a little when she rather suddenly leaped up from his desk and assumed what he guessed was meant to be a dramatic pose. “Save me, brave Sir Galahad!” she gasped.

“You look utterly ridiculous,” he remarked, not rising to her baiting him. “Sit down and finish the mobile line.”

“Maybe I ought to have one, too. Do we have a Guinevere? Or perhaps Nimue? I could be the Lady of the Lake!”

Luckily the doorbell rang at that moment, sparing him the rest of her cheeky routine. “Nimue is the Lady of the Lake. Just finish the line whilst I answer the door,” he instructed, taking his jacket with him.

“I did know that, Harry,” her amused voice followed him out into the hallway.

Ignoring her, he slid his jacket on to cover the guns hanging from his shoulder holsters. A quick check showed the guns would be ready for him if he needed them. There was no need to look sloppy, however, even if someone had come to kill him, so he smoothed down his clothing as he descended the last few steps. After quickly adjusting his cuffs and collar, he cautiously approached the door.

Perhaps it was a credit to his training that, even after hearing his mother’s voice on the other side of the door, he still approached it with caution. Or perhaps he simply knew his mother too well. A sigh managed to escape him as she pushed past him into the foyer.

“Mother, what are you doing here?” he asked, subtlely moving to stand in front of Alice’s jacket. The last thing he wanted was an inquisition on the state of his love life. Between his mother and Alice, he would never live the night down.

“We made plans for supper ages ago, Harry.” Somehow she managed to sound as though she was scolding him. “Who’s jacket are you covering up?”

“I’m not covering it up, I have someone over working on the phone line,” he lied, taking his mother’s trench coat to hang next to Alice’s.

Even as a boy he had always wondered how his mother was capable of arching her one eyebrow so far. It almost seemed as though someone had a string hooked into her eyebrow and was tugging it. Of course, that would also explain how her frown went so deep whenever she was angry with him. “Are you going to introduce me or not?”

“Well, mother, if you’re really giving me the choice,” up went the eyebrow, “which you’re clearly not….” He escorted her into the dining room and pulled out a chair for her, assisting her into it. Once he was certain she was comfortable, he went to the kitchen and put the kettle on, then turned back around to face his mother. “We’ll be right down.”

Astonishment was written plainly on her face as she swivelled around to observe him, though thankfully her eyebrow had returned to its normal placement on her face. “You have her up in your bedroom?”

Another sigh escaped him. Given the mood both his mother and Alice seemed to be in, he definitely would not be living this night down. “No, she’s in my office, fixing up the phone line. I did tell you.”

“Do all of your girlfriends do this sort of thing for you?”

“She’s a colleague, mother, nothing more.”

The eyebrow went right back up again. “At the tailor’s shop?”

Not wanting to have this discussion yet again, he sighed and ran up the stairs to fetch Alice. If his mother did not want to believe he had quit the Royal Navy to work for a tailor’s, that was fine. It did not mean he had to confess every one of his dealings to her, nor did it mean he had to discuss it with her every time he saw her.

Rounding the corner into his office, he was dismayed to find Alice sat at his desk and failing to cover her amused smirk behind her hand. “Your mum is here?”

“Yes, and she’s insisting on meeting you.”

“I must admit I’m rather surprised you’re not asking me to go out the window,” she laughed.

So, she wanted to tease him further? Two could play at that game. “Excellent idea,” he announced, crossing the room. He opened the window and gestured outside. “Out you go.”

Rather than responding as he thought she would, she stood her ground, crossing her arms.

“Right. Well, I suppose since she’s already seen your jacket, there’s nothing for it,” he admitted. “It looks as though you’ve managed to get yourself an invitation to supper.”

“With your mother?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but found he could not. One part of him was silenced by irritation - irritation at himself for forgetting he had invited his mother over - and another part realized there was no reply he could give that would not invite a smart remark. “Are you coming or not?”

“Give me a tick to finish what I’m doing?”

With a vague gesture at the desk he relented, waiting in the doorway. Although it was not an ideal situation - he preferred to keep his personal and work lives separated - he supposed it could have been worse. He could only imagine the spectacle either Elizabeth or Martin would cause, had they been there.

Alice would be polite and respectful - to a point. Yes, it was likely that the presence of his mother would not stop her teasing, but she would not be overt or rude. It was dreadful to think, but she might actually get on well with his mother.

With that thought in mind, he resigned himself to the evening ahead.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: No, I don't own Kingsman (shock!).
> 
> I'm planning to do one a year, starting in 1994 and ending in 2014. Each chapter will alternate POV.
> 
> I'm always up for constructive criticism and a beta reader. Just don't be an asshole about it. :)


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